The voids of the soul are not filled with fake things, no matter how luxurious they are, but rather they are filled with true things, no matter how simple.

I hoped that he would love me,
And he has kissed my mouth,
But I am like a stricken bird
That cannot reach the south.
For though I know he loves me,
To-night my heart is sad;
His kiss was not so wonderful
As all the dreams I had.
-Sara Teasdale